Steele Lost, Steele Found
by kgmohror
Summary: He's alone and desperate on the streets of L.A., wondering how he'd messed up so badly ...


**Steele Lost, Steele Found**

Twas a fine kettle of fish he found himself in … and no one to blame but himself. Gazing around the darkness of this cramped prison, its only illumination a narrow crack in the ceiling that also provided ventilation, he cursed the folly that had landed him here – tired, hungry and desperately missing Laura.

In a way, it was because of her that he was in such dire straits. In the three years since she'd rescued him from a life of danger and aimless wandering, he'd grown appallingly soft. Sumptuous accommodations, gourmet meals and a lifestyle that was easy-going to the point of sedentary was no way to keep a chap sharp and on his toes. Where once he had regarded the world with a wary eye and cunning mind, he had lately turned complacent. How easy it had been to become accustomed to Laura's warm arms around him, her musical laugh when he did something amusing, her lovely brown eyes gazing affectionately into his.

So why had he done it? What madness had possessed him to abandon the best life he'd ever had … a better life than he'd even dared imagine? He only knew a kind of restlessness had come upon him, a curiosity about what he might be missing "out there." Perhaps there had been a bit of nostalgia for the footloose and fancy free days of his youth. But almost immediately after he'd slipped away, he recalled that "footloose" was just a romantic term for homeless, and "fancy free" just meant he couldn't expect any creature comforts in this world that was a great deal harder and colder than he remembered. Now he'd been on the run for three days, surrounded by strangers he couldn't trust and unexpected perils he was hard-pressed to elude. Only last week he'd turned up his nose upon being presented with cuisine he considered substandard; this morning he was scrounging for scraps in a filthy dumpster.

If only he could crawl back to Laura, beg her forgiveness. He'd gladly endure the inevitable scolding - because he deserved it, and because he knew her tender and compassionate heart would finally soften toward him and he'd again feel her soft touch and hear her sweet voice murmur words of comfort as she gathered him in her arms.

But he couldn't go back. He'd strayed too far, lost his way. How could he face her, anyway, looking like this? He'd prided himself on his elegance, his impeccable grooming. Laura, who didn't bestow compliments lightly, had been known to describe him as handsome. Now he was filthy and disheveled, no longer the confident – even cocky – fellow she'd known. She wouldn't want him now, would soon forget him. Perhaps find another she liked just as well.

So dejected was he that he'd almost been glad to see the face of his old nemesis appear, suddenly, in the dank, garbage-strewn recess where he'd taken refuge late last night. Though he'd fled down the alley and over a low fence, his pursuer had followed, finally cornering him in a doorway. They'd struggled, but in his weakened state he was no match for his enemy. He'd been subdued and confined in this coffin-like box, felt himself being loaded into the back of a vehicle and was soon being transported he knew not where. His captor spoke occasionally, but he knew better than trust this man who had appeared in their lives so suddenly and insinuated himself into Laura's good graces … even her affections.

The vehicle came to a stop and he felt himself being lifted out and carried into a building and up several flights of stairs. He took some grim satisfaction in hearing the man huffing and puffing as he conveyed him to what he was sure would be his final resting place. But he wouldn't go quietly. He tensed every muscle, ready to pounce as he detected a sudden fumbling at the door of his prison, and- "Mama!"

"Oh, thank God!" Laura exclaimed, reaching into the box Mr. Steele held in his arms. She lifted Nero, who was meowing loudly, and clasped him to her chest. "Where have you been, you naughty kitty? I've been so worried!"

"I found him in an alley about three blocks from here," Steele explained, setting down the box and brushing down his immaculate suit. "Little bugger tried to tear my eyes out when I took hold of him. Good thing he's declawed."

Laura set the cat down next to his dish and watched him attack it ravenously. She turned to Steele with a grateful smile. "Thank you so much, Mr. Steele. I know you're not especially fond of Nero."

"I've got nothing against the creature, apart from a sneaking suspicion that you like him better than me."

Laura laughed and raised on tiptoes to bestow a quick kiss on her partner. "I think you're both jealous of each other. But now that you've saved his life, I'm sure Nero will be appropriately appreciative and you'll be the best of friends from now on."

Steele glanced down at the black feline, who had finished his meal and was now furiously licking his soiled fur clean. "Maybe," Steele replied doubtfully. Nero paused in his ablutions, looked up at him with a baleful glare, then sauntered over to his rescuer and promptly vomited on his polished leather shoe.

Steele swore. Laura laughed. And Nero purred.

END


End file.
